Something from Nothing
by StarWarrior72
Summary: After nearly twenty years, Vader's relationship with his only son has remained a sad void. Never one to give up easily, he has called his son to join him on a remote planet in hopes of gaining his family. ONESHOT


It was all Vader could do to keep himself from running down the landing ramp as soon as it opened. He was so eager to see his son, who had promised to meet him alone, in secret, on this planet, so distant from the rest of the galaxy that few remembered it. Vader had arrived early, half to be certain that Luke had not been and gone, and half to show that he was willing to wait for the boy.

Luke, it turned out, had arrived even earlier, as he was sitting atop a rock, nibbling on a ration bar as if only for something to do. Vader smiled to himself, noting Luke's fingers tapping against the rock, his legs swinging. Sure signs of poorly disguised impatience. Luke continued to eat, clearly pretending he wasn't completely aware that his father's ship had just landed practically on top of him.

Vader walked down the landing ramp in his best imitation of his usual long, but not particularly hurried, stride. As he neared, Luke looked up, acknowledging his presence. The young rebel carefully wrapped the nutrition bar back up in its foil and put it back in his belt. His eyes darted to his lightsaber, then back up at Vader. Vader didn't blame him in the slightest, he knew that the boy was probably absolutely terrified by now.

He didn't reach for his own lightsaber in return. Instead, he reached the boy and laid a hand on his shoulder. Luke shrugged him off, which Vader had expected, but for just a moment, he thought he saw hope in the boy's eyes. It confirmed what he'd suspected from the moment he'd watched the whirlwind of emotions in the boy's face when he'd told him the truth about their relationship. Luke wanted desperately to return home, to come back to Vader and his promises of protection, and the unspoken ones of love.

"You asked me to come here, Father?" Luke asked, looking up into Vader's face.

Vader nodded. _I called you, and you came._ "I thought that you might want this back," he said, taking his old lightsaber off his belt and holding it out to his son. Luke's hand, the replacement for the one Vader had removed, which was probably what Luke would have really wanted back, moved to the new lightsaber hanging on Luke's belt. He bit his lip, looking up at his father with expression he seemed afraid to voice.

"It's all right," Vader told his son, marveling at how easy it was to want to comfort him, "I'd suspected as much. Take it anyway," he pressed the old blue saber into Luke's hand, and Luke's fingers wrapped tentatively around the weapon.

Then, with all the emotion he seemed to have been holding back, Luke said, "Thank you."

Vader smiled down at his son, "You're welcome."

Luke smiled back, and Vader reached out tentatively and touched the boy's face. Immediately, the smile was gone, replaced by pain, and for one insane moment, Vader was afraid that his gentle touch had caused Luke physical hurting. An instant later, he realized the truth, and it was more painful. If he had touched a bruise that had not discoloured, or a fresh scar, they could have forgiven him for it, but realizing the truth, that he had hurt Luke's very soul gave him a wound he didn't think he could heal.

"I'm sorry," he ventured, taking the boy's shoulder in his hand again before he could think better of it. Luke tore himself away, taking a step back, and Vader was forced to watch as Luke struggled to get his horror under control. He knew that that sort of pain, despair, and anger should never be brought by a gentle caress from one's father.

_What can I do to fix it?_ He demanded of himself, _What would Mom have done?_ But of course, his mother had never run into this particular wall with her son. Anakin had adored his mother, and would never have been hurt or angered by her efforts to calm him. He thought instead of Obi-Wan, who he had been frustrated, angry with, and hurt by on countless occasions. But, of course, Obi-Wan had never known what to do. He had never been able to solve the pain he caused. The thought came with a terrible worry that it would be the same way with Luke.

As Vader had stood, silent, wracking his brains for a solution, Luke had stepped nearer again, "It's all right. I'm sorry, I overreacted."

_But you didn't!_ Vader thought frantically, _If you had, it wouldn't be hurting me like this!_ He wanted to close the gap, to change the subject to something Luke could discuss more easily. If only his mind would stop reeling from the boy's reactions so he could think of something!

Luke took a tiny step closer, "Father, would you tell me something about my mother?"

It was not what Vader had been looking for. But it was an exit, and one Luke seemed to want to take as much as Vader wanted to leave their current conversation.

"She was very beautiful," Vader started. He hadn't thought of anything to say about her, because he had imagined himself to be in complete control of the situation, and able to guide it away from the painful subject. He was afraid that anything he said would only make her seem like less the angel she had always been.

"Yes?" Luke asked expectantly, when the pause had lengthened to several seconds.

"And loyal," Vader continued, "She was a good and caring person. She acted as though all the citizens of the galaxy were her family. She would have," he paused, taken aback by the sentence he could not avoid finishing, "She would have adored you."

At the words, Luke blushed delicately, and tears began to swim in his eyes. Vader reached out and brushed the tears away, and for once, Luke didn't start. In fact, the young man seemed about to come closer, something Vader wanted very badly. But then Luke stopped, and stepped back, wiping the more recent tears from his face himself, and when Vader moved to help, he snapped.

"Father, stop that!" and with that, he turned away from Vader, leaving him to wonder what had been wrong with it the second time, if not the first. He wondered also if what he had perceived as proof that Luke wanted to come home had only been his own longing for his son.

"I'm sorry, Luke," Vader said, "I didn't realize it upset you so."

"Stop apologizing to me! There aren't enough apologies in the galaxy for what _you've_ done!"

"I know that," Vader admitted, "But, Luke," he began.

"What?" Luke demanded, "Do you want me to forgive you? You've hurt me and my friends more than the rest of the galaxy! Why don't you head on down to one of your schools and take in one of _those_ boys? I'm sure they'd be more to your liking!"

Luke's outburst had startled Vader more than he cared to admit. Luke was so calm, so peaceful, when he'd arrived that Vader found it hard to believe that a few words could have stripped that perfect Jedi down to his basest hatred and anger. He became aware of his hand moving too late to stop it, as it had rested in Luke's hair. Immediately, the boy spun back to his father, the fury gone from his face.

"Father!" he said, loudly, but more with despair than anger. Then, just when Vader thought he'd sorted his son out, Luke took him completely by surprise and plunged into his arms. Confused, Vader looked down at Luke. The young man had wrapped his arms tightly around his father, and Vader could feel where Luke was holding fistfuls of his tunic.

"Please stop," Luke begged, although his voice was muffled by Vader's tunic.

"Why?" Vader asked, finally putting his arms around the boy in return, "Clearly, it's what you want."

As Luke clung to him, Vader realized that with absolute certainty. He had been right, Luke did want to be snuggled and cradled and taken home. So why did he react so whenever Vader tried to do him those most basic kindnesses?

"Because it hurts," Luke mumbled, "Knowing that I'll leave you again and be forced to fight you. You're bribing me to turn to the Dark Side, I know you are. You're offering me everything I've ever wanted! It's not fair, it's not right to play with my emotions."

Vader was beginning to understand. He cradled Luke against himself and began to stroke his hair gently, soothingly, "I'm not bribing you, Luke. I want to do this for you. I am," he said with a smile, "At my most self-serving right now."

Luke gave a hiccupy laugh, "Me too."

They stood still, holding one another, for several minutes. Luke began to cry quietly into Vader's tunic, and Vader looked down at him and smiled to himself. Luke wanted his father. Luke wanted _him_. Luke wanted _Darth Vader!_ And, he promised himself suddenly, Luke would have him. He wouldn't leave this clearing without Luke, one way or another.

"Luke, come with me," he begged.

Luke shook his head, or perhaps he was just trying to move aside the cloth at the neck of his father's tunic, for when he was finished, his head rested against Vader's skin, "Don't," he answered, "Don't do that now. You've just convinced me you're not doing that."

"Doing what?" Vader asked.

"Turning me."

"Oh," Vader answered, "I only meant to come home, not to turn."

Luke mumbled something incomprehensible, and Vader waited silently for his son to repeat it. He was still running his hand through his son's hair, and he could feel that Luke's grip on his tunic was relaxing. After several moments of silence he spoke, "Please repeat whatever it was you said."

"I have to go home," Luke said sadly, and just slightly louder than he'd spoken the first time, "I have to go back home to the Alliance."

Vader sighed. He'd feared as much. Luke released his tunic, and stepped back, looking up into his father's face, "I want to," he promised, "But I can't."

Vader nodded, "May I come with you?" he asked carefully.

Luke blinked at him, suddenly hopeful again, "Come with me? Back to the Alliance? Back to the Light?"

"Yes," Vader, well, Anakin now, answered, "Back with you."

"Yes!" Luke said eagerly, "Of course!"

Anakin smiled, and pulled his son close once more, and Luke buried his face against his father's chest again. Anakin felt better now, he had to admit. It was an immense relief to be caring for his son, and now that he was no longer Vader he had returned to the persona of someone long thought dead, and he had no obligations. Certainly, the Alliance would pile them on him as they always seemed to have done to his son, but for now, he was gloriously free, provided he wanted to take his son, who was firmly attached to him once again, everywhere with him. Which, fortunately, he did.


End file.
